Kiss of the Spidergirl
by Roaddog 469
Summary: New kid at the School. Logan doesn't like her, and the feeling is mutual. But will that change? (Lame, I know but I hate doing summaries)
1. Part I

"Thanks a lot, sugar

Roaddog 4:69

Ok, y'all. This is my first fic so please be gentle. First off, no one sue me. As wonderful as this fic is (yeah, right) I am not making any money off of it, so even if you do sue me, unless you're in it for pocket lint, then you ain't gonna get much out of it. Anyway, I didn't create Wolverine, Scott, Jean, the Professor…you know what? If you recognize the character then I didn't create them. Araña however is my character. And concerning the characters that aren't mine, if I have not written them to character I apologize upfront. My comic book reading friend tells me that some of this is not true to the comics, but I wrote to the movie, and tried to keep it as true as I could given such little background in the movie. Anyway, now that all of that is out of the way…on with the story.

"Thanks a lot, sugar. I appreciate it," Araña Castilla said as she stepped down out of the cab of the eighteen-wheeler. She had hitched a ride with this trucker a ways back; thankfully, men on the road usually don't ask many questions. Most of the time, they're just happy for the company and small talk. 

"Take care, 'raña, hope everything works out for you," Dwayne, the trucker called to her as she hit the ground. She turned and smiled sweetly before she closed the door behind her as Dwayne revved the engine and continued down the road. She waved one last time at the side-view, before she picked up her knapsack. She hoisted it over her shoulder and walked to the sidewalk. _Damn, I'm hungry_, she thought to herself. Standing on the corner, looking left and right, she spotted a corner store. Her stomach rumbling, she knelt down to get her money.

Reaching into her shoe, she found the last of her money. Pulling it out, she unfolded the small wad of bills counting it. Suddenly she heard a motorcycle coming from her left. She looked up; it was hugging the curb. Close. Real close. She didn't realize exactly how close until the rider was right on top of her, nearly taking her head with him as he passed. She threw herself back just in time, knocking her sunglasses off in the process. She picked them up quickly and replaced them on her face before anyone could see her elliptical pupils. She sat there recovering, as he parked his bike at the corner store. 

A Jeep drove by then. The driver, obviously as unhappy with the biker's driving as she was, honked and yelled out the window at the asshole as he drove by. The biker responded by shooting the bird at the driver of the jeep. The jeep continued down the road at a slower than normal pace as the biker dismounted. 

"Asshole," Araña whispered, watching as the biker walked inside. She stood and dusted herself off. 

Counting out her few dollars she found that she had a grand total of two dollars and seventeen cents to her name. Hoisting her sack onto her shoulder, she adjusted her sunglasses and trotted across the street. 

Upon entering she noticed that the store resembled one back home. If the people were at all the same as back home, then she had better keep her right hand in her pocket and her glasses on. With that thought she put her hand in her pocket and held her money with it. She smiled pleasantly at the old man behind the counter.

He nodded back absently; he seemed to be concentrating on the store's only other occupant. The asshole on the motorcycle. Araña rolled her eyes. Typically scruffy, lots of hair, and boots. He looked up and regarded her quickly with a sneer. She rolled her eyes again and turned to the back of the store and started to walk toward the cooler. 

"Young lady," the old man spoke up. "You'll need to leave that bag here if you're going to the back of the store."

Araña took offense but she didn't need trouble. She walked back to the counter and plunked her knapsack onto the counter. Turning back to the cooler again she caught the look on the face of the scruffy guy. He was looking a hole through the old man.

Ignoring them both, she made her way to the cooler and grabbed a Coke. She lifted her ponytail and held the cold drink against the back of her neck. A slight shiver went down her spine and goosebumps broke out on her arm. A row of jerky on the right caught her eye. She was in for quite a bit more walking and she would need the energy. She grabbed a package and walked toward the counter. The scruffy looking asshole was walking up at the same time. Araña quickened her step to get to the counter first, but he arrived there a split second before her. However, she got her jerky and Coke on the counter before he lifted his hand. 

"Back off, kid," he growled. "I was here first."

"Your stuff wasn't on the counter, that's not 'here' in my book." 

The old man added up her purchases, hoping he could get them both out of here before this guy made a scene again, which he was prone to do. "Two-oh-four," the old man announced, producing her knapsack from behind the counter. 

"Who gives a damn about 'your' book?" the scruff persisted, "Didn't anyone ever teach you to have respect for your elders?"

"Hey asshole," Araña responded, producing her money from the pocket of her jeans. She slammed it down on the counter, and turned before she continued her reply, "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to take out pedestrians while driving?"

"What is that?" the old man said from behind the counter. 

"What do you mean by that exactly, girl?"

"I said what is this?" the old man said a little louder this time, but still not loud enough to get Araña's attention. 

"I mean, you passed me on that corner back there and I'm lucky that you didn't take my head in your spokes."

"I said, 'what is this?'" the old man was yelling by now, and he grabbed Araña by the right hand. She turned to him, and exhaled deeply realizing that in her haste to argue with this other asshole she had forgotten to keep her right hand in her pocket.Now revealed to this man was one of her 'specialties' as she so lovingly referred to them…others usually just called them mutations. A large black marking resembling a spider web covered her hand from knuckle to wrist, in the center of the web was a small red hourglass raised about a half an inch from the rest of her skin. It pulsed as her blood rushed through it. 

She pulled her hand free of the old man's grip and put it back in her pocket. "Just give me my change," she managed to stammer. He reached up and grabbed her sunglasses off of her face, revealing her eyes, glowing red with tiny webs for pupils.

"I want you out of my store, Freak, now!" the old man replied, throwing her glasses down on the counter, and stuffing her Coke and jerky into her knapsack. 

"Just give me my change and I'm gone," Araña replied, trying to control her anger.

The old man set one hand down on the counter and swept with it, sending her change flying through the air and it went clattering down on the floor at the feet of and behind the scruffy guy. Not about to sacrifice the last of her self-esteem in order to pick up thirteen cents, Araña grabbed her knapsack off of the counter and ran out the door. 

As she neared the street, she saw a cop car driving slowly by. She shoved her hand further down into her pocket and dropped her eyes. Behind her the old man flew out of the store's door, screaming, "Shoplifter! Shoplifter!" She turned to see whom he was talking about, fearing that she already knew. Sure enough, the old man was pointing at her.

"I paid you," she screamed back as he came running toward her and the police car pulled in. 

"What seems to be the problem, Floyd?" asked the pot-bellied officer that stepped out of the car.

"This Freak here stole a drink and a package of beef jerky from my store. Look in her bag, Jim. You'll find them."

"I paid him, sir. Honestly, I did."

"May I have your bag, miss?" Jim asked.

She unshouldered her knapsack, as she spoke, "You are going to find a twenty ounce bottle of Coke and a package of beef jerky in there, sir. I'm not denying that, but I paid this son of a bitch for them."

"I don't need that kind of language."

"What the hell are you the etiquette police?" Araña asked starting get scared as well as mad.

"Would you please remove your eyewear?" he asked in a commanding voice. 

"I'd rather not, sir, if it's all the same to you."

"If it was all the same to me I wouldn't have asked," he continued. "Remove the glasses, now." Araña complied; looking up at him she saw pity, disgust, then anger cross his features. "Do you have a receipt for these items?" Jim asked, glaring at her through his mirrored sunglasses. 

"No," Araña replied, sullenly dropping her head. 

"Well why don't you just pay this man for his merchandise and we can all go on with our lives."

"Don't you think I would if I could? But the fact is that I just spent my last two dollars on this and I don't have any more goddamned money."

"Then I guess you're just going to have to come with me," Jim replied, roughly grabbing her arm. She was calculating the distance to the closest area of cover and if she could make it there after using one of her less pleasant powers on both of these men, when the scruffy looking guy roared up on his bike. 

He reached into his breast pocket and produced two dollars, and tossed them to the old man, then turned to the cop, "Now let her go," he said in a voice that even scared Araña. 

"I have a hard enough time handling crime in this city. You freaks and all of your kind keep out of town," the cop replied, loosening his grip. Araña pulled herself loose, replaced her sunglasses, and started to walk away.

"It was two-oh-four," the old man called after Araña. 

She turned around to reply just in time to see the scruffy looking guy lift the old man off the ground by his shirt collar, "You can take it out of the two-oh-four that she already paid you." With that he set him down and Araña kept walking toward the street. 

She was on her way east out of town, when the scruffy looking guy passed her. _Asshole_, she thought to herself. That little scene could have been completely avoided if he hadn't distracted her.Her mind was beginning to concentrate on her walking again when a jeep pulled up next to her.

She glanced through the corner of her eye. It was the same Jeep that had followed that asshole into town. A young guy with dark hair and sunglasses was looking through the window at her. She continued walking trying to avoid eye contact, hoping he would go away. He didn't, however. 

Finally Araña stopped and the jeep stopped beside her. "Look," she said facing him full for the first time; she realized that he wasn't that bad looking. "I have no money and a can a Mace in my duffel-bag…not to mention a real bad case of crabs. If any of that is still a turn on to you then let's get this over with, but if I have dissuaded you in any way then get out of here because I have a lot of walking to do."

He covered his mouth with his hand to conceal his smile, "Actually I was just going to offer you a ride."

"Why?"

"Because you look like you could use some help."

"I'm on my way to somewhere they can help, so thanks but no thanks."

"Really? Where you headed?"

"To the Xavier School for Gifted Children."

"Nice place."

"How would you know?" Araña asked.

"I live there."

"I hear that Professor Xavier has a cure for any kind of mutation."

"Where did you hear that?"

"Around," she answered quickly.

"Well, it's not true, unfortunately."

"Are you sure," she asked, quietly.

"Yup," he replied.

She thought about this for a few seconds before saying, "Well, I'll just keep going then."

"You know they may not have a cure at the School but they do help."

"I don't need any help," she replied, the edge back in her voice. 

"Of course not," he replied, "but if you go to the school you won't regret it. It's a place that you can fit in. And I bet it's been a long time since you've felt like that anywhere."

She stared at him for a second and he thought he was getting through to her when she responded, "Am I supposed to fall into your arms now, sobbing because you figured me out," she said as she turned to continue walking. "Don't count on it."

Persistent, he pulled alongside her again. "Ok, how 'bout this? I'll make you a deal. You come to the school with me, and if in three days you aren't happy with where you are, then I'll bring you back into town, give you some money, and put you on a train to anywhere you want to go."

Araña stopped cold. She stared at this stranger through the corner of her eye. The School had been where she was headed in the first place, and if this guy was on the up and up, all she had to do was stick it out for three days and she had a ticket to anywhere. Confirming to herself that this situation didn't seem to have any kind of downside, she reached out and opened the passenger side door of the jeep.

"I'm Scott, by the way," he said taking the jeep out of park and extending one hand. 

She took his in hers, "Araña, and I don't really have crabs." Araña thought she caught him blushing a little before he turned away.


	2. Part II

Now three days later, Araña sat in a chair in Professor Xavier's office, flanked by Scott

Roaddog4:69

I don't own the characters that I didn't create…yadda,yadda,yadda…please don't sue me.

Now three days later, Araña sat in a chair in Professor Xavier's office, flanked by Scott. It had been an interesting three days. The School was incredible. Fellow Mutants everywhere, some with incredible powers. 

Unfortunately, the asshole from town lived here, too. His name was Logan. Wolverine. Whichever, he was still Asshole to her. He was almost as charming to everyone else as he had been to her. And he was pushy. Araña didn't take to being pushed. After having enough of him one day, she spat venom at him, not enough to be fatal but enough to burn a hole through the flannel that he had been wearing. He responded with a crisp * snikt * sound revealing long claws that extended from his knuckles. Needless to say, Araña was a bit more intimidated by him than he was by her. 

He was the only hitch though, she was fitting in, and as much as she hated to admit it…it felt good. Finally she didn't feel like a freak, but she had to keep moving. " If I had come here just after leaving home, I think I would have loved it, but I've been out on my own for too long, and I miss it," she tried to justify her decision to Scott and the Professor.

"You must do what makes you happy, Araña," Xavier replied.

"I agree," Scott said standing up, "And when you get enough independence, come back. We'll be here."

"Thank you for understanding," Araña replied.

"Why don't you go and pack, then I'll take you into town."

"Scott," Xavier began, "I need you here this afternoon."

"Professor?" Scott questioned.

"I need you here," Xavier continued with a piercing glare. "Araña, why don't you go and pack and I'll arrange a ride for you."

"Okay," she replied, sensing that there was more going on than what she would be told, "Scott, thanks for everything."

"My pleasure, Araña." With that she left the room and Xavier waited for the door to close behind her before he began to speak.

"She's a bright girl. Headstrong with and iron will. She would make a wonderful addition to the school."

"Yes, but she wants to leave and I promised her…"

Xavier held up one hand to silence him. "If she goes to the station with you, she'll get on a train and maybe never come back, on the other hand if we send her with Logan…"

"Logan?!?" Scott exclaimed, "You can't trust him with this kid. They'll kill each other before they get into town. You know she burned a hole in his shirt?"

"I realize he's a bit overbearing, but…did you say she burned a hole in his shirt?" Scott nodded slowly, after a few seconds thought Xavier dismissed that argument with a wave of his hand. "The reason they don't get along is because they are so much alike. If we send him with her, it is possible that she will see that if another free spirit can stand living here, maybe she can too."

"Professor," Scott began to object, but Xavier raised his hand again, silencing him.

"Just send Logan down, will you?" Scott nodded, then turned and shook his head all the way to the door. 

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"No way, Professor. There is no way that I'm goin' along with this. If she wants t' go then let 'er go."

"Logan," he replied, "you miss the point."

"No, Professor, I get the point. You want the kid t' stay an' you figure if she goes with me then she will decide that she wants t' stay. Well if you send her with me, she's gonna stay alright because she's gonna be in a shallow grave on the side of th' road somewhere."

"Don't count on it, Asshole," came the voice from the door. Logan turned to see Araña standing at the door. Five foot three, in jeans and a loose-fitting black t-shirt. Fair skinned with a long blond ponytail, she wasn't a bad looking kid, but there was just something about her that irked Logan. "Professor," she began, dropping her bag just inside the door, as she walked past Logan, "If it's a problem to get me a ride then don't worry about it. I can hitch into town."

"Sounds like a hell of an idea t' me," Logan growled as he turned and made his way past her to the door.

_Logan_, came the voice in his head. _Dammit_, Logan thought to himself, as he stopped and turned around. Seeing the look on the Professor's face he knew that he would end up doing this whether he wanted to or not. Huffing, he shook his head. "Grab your bag, darlin'. Let's go," he said gruffly as he pushed his way past her to the door.

"Don't do me any favors," Araña replied defiantly.

Growling Logan turned back towards her, lip curled up in a snarl, hair bristling, he looked more animal than man, and Araña despite her best efforts to hide her fear involuntarily took a step back. His snarl turned more into a smirk as he repeated, "I said, 'Let's go'."

Now pissed that she had lost face, Araña regained her ground plus a step. Now in Logan's face she ripped off her sunglasses to reveal red eyes, and with venom in her voice she replied, "Fuck you."

Logan raised his right hand and with a * snikt * his claws sprung from his knuckles. Adrenaline pumping way beyond the scope of rational thought, Araña responded by spraying venom onto his claws. She knew it wouldn't do any damage, but it would smoke like hell.

"Enough!" the Professor shouted. Several seconds went by before either moved and the professor was preparing to shout again when Araña looked down, grabbed her bag and pushed past Logan out the door.

* Snikt * as Logan retracted his claws, "Sweet kid," he stated as the turned to the professor, "I can see why you'd want t' keep 'er around." With that he followed Araña out the door. Xavier slumped down into his wheelchair, as he began to think that maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

_Dammit! _Logan thought as he walked up to the counter, _have to put up with this damn kid for another day. _In retrospect calling for train times in advance would have been a good idea. They had just missed the last train to Denver and there wouldn't be another until morning. Early morning, too early to make going back to the school worthwhile. 

"Need rooms," he growled at the annoyingly pleasant clerk behind the counter. 

"I'm sorry, sir," she began cheerily, "We have only one room left in the hotel."

"In th' entire place? One room?"

"Shriner's Convention, sir."

"Goddamned Shriner's," Araña stated flatly, "Please tell me that the room you have has two beds."

"No ma'am, I'm sorry it doesn't," as she watched the color drain from both of their faces the clerk continued helpfully, "I can have housekeeping put a cot in the room."

"Yes!" Araña and Logan shouted together.

"Alrighty," the clerk continued. "Fill out this card please and I need to know how you intend to pay for the room." Logan quickly snatched the card, and began scribbling on it. Araña stared expectantly at the side of his face, waiting for him to respond to the clerk. By the time he finished the card both the clerk and Araña were staring at him. He sighed heavily, sliding the card across the desk to the clerk, he looked directly ahead, "I know you're not expecting me t' pay for this." Araña remained silent, staring blankly at him until he sighed again, reached into his pocket and produced his wallet. 

"Visa?"

"Of course, Mr…" the clerk paused trying to decipher the name on the registration card, then looked at the name on the credit card, "Mr. Sommers." The clerk turned her back to run the credit card, as Logan smiled to himself. This whole thing should have been Cyke's dirty work; Logan just figured he should spring for some of it.

"Room 412, Mr. Sommers."

"Smokin' room?"

"No sir, I'm sorry." Logan grumbled something about damn liberals as he turned and walked away. Araña smiled at the clerk as she took the key and followed Logan.

Standing outside the door to their hotel room, Logan grabbed the key out of Araña's hand, and after repeated attempts, could not get the door to open. He looked incredibly frustrated and Araña was beginning to worry that he was just going to take the door off of the hinges. 

"Let me try," she said pushing her way past him. She placed one hand flat on the door and the other grasped the key firmly. Exhaling softly, she jiggled the key in the door several times before making the attempt to turn it, the door opened. Sweeping her hand in the door, "That's typically male. You can get it in the hole no problem, but when it comes to doing something in the hole, you're all clueless." Growling, he stormed past her into the room. Smiling smugly to herself she followed. He grabbed the ice bucket off of the counter and headed back out. 

"I need ice," _and beer_ he thought to himself. "I'm going t' th' store."

"Great, could you pick me up some Tampax?" she called to him as he neared the door. He froze in his steps, breathed deeply, yanked the door open and was gone. "Asshole," she said to herself as the door closed.

"Bitch," he yelled once in the hall.

Inside the room, Araña heard him and smiled. Grabbing the clicker off of the bedside table, she turned the TV on to discover that the room had two channels. One porn and one pay-per-view. _Great_, she thought to herself as she clicked the TV off. Flopping back on the bed she removed her sunglasses and tossed them onto the nightstand. _Too bad Scott didn't spring for a nicer hotel room_, she thought to herself and smiled. _Maybe Logan wasn't as big an asshole as originally thought. Any man who steals a credit card can't be all bad. _

Laying her head to one side, Araña noticed a small alarm-clock/radio. Hell, can't watch TV, might as well hear some music. Commercials, commercials and more commercials. Why the hell do they bother to call it a radio station if they play nothing but commercials? She thought to herself heaving a deep breath. 

She was reaching to turn off the radio when she heard the opening music for a song that she knew. She turned it up a little, and wiggled to the music while still laying on the bed. Then decided 'Screw that,' she stood and cranked the music. And with her back to the door she started dancing. 

Wiggling, shaking, and head banging. She pulled the scrunchy from her hair, giving it its freedom. She continued dancing until the song was began to wind down, and then suddenly the sound was cut off. She turned to see what the hell happened, only to be greeted by Logan's smirking visage. 

She smiled nervously as she felt color creep into her cheeks. "You said, store. I was assuming a longer trip."

"Store's across the street."

"Great," she replied, nodding, and pursing her lips. "If you'll excuse me," she said, "I'm going to go into the bathroom and die now." She dropped her head into her hand and pushed past him into the bathroom. He smiled to himself as he placed the six-pack of beer on the counter. Pulling one bottle from the cardboard case he twisted off the top and took a long pull.

Slowly the door to the bathroom opened and Araña stepped out.

"So," Logan began, leaning back in this chair, "that a style of dancing?"

She sat on the bed and looked away, "Couldn't leave it alone, could you?" she asked shaking her head as she turned back to him. He made a casual, 'who knows' gesture with his hand and beer bottle. Spotting the six-pack she slowly started towards it, "It's my own theory on dancing. Get out there and shake everything you can for the duration of the song and usually by the end there is someone waiting to buy you a beer," as she finished the last of the sentence, she reached casually for a bottle.

Deftly, Logan swept it away. "Are you even old enough to drink that?"

She huffed, "Are you so old that you feel the need to ask?"

He grinned crookedly, "You'd be surprised."

She rolled her eyes and flopped down on the far corner of the bed, Logan sat on the opposite corner, closest to the beer. "So what's on TV?" he asked picking up the remote in his free hand. She watched him flip the TV on as she pulled her hair back up. "Is this it?" he asked upset.

Seeing he was intent on the TV, Araña lifted her right hand and aimed her right index finger at one of the bottles of beer still in the six-pack. Concentrating, she closed her eyes, and from the hourglass on her wrist, shot a thin strand of silk four feet to the table. By the time Logan realized what she was doing, the silk had already wrapped around the neck of the bottle, and with a quick flick of her wrist, the silk retracted and brought the bottle to her waiting hand. 

Logan raised one eyebrow as she twisted the cap off of her bottle, and took a long, long pull. When she finally set the bottle down it was more than three quarters gone. She smiled then finished the last of her beer. Feeling threatened, he downed the rest of his. 

She tossed her bottle into the corner, and he followed suit. She lined her finger up once again, and again repeated the feat. Amazed, Logan took one more beer out of the six. She twisted the cap off and downed the whole thing, without breathing. He paused with his bottle halfway to his mouth, as he watched in awe. Throwing the bottle into the corner with the other two, she smiled at him, challengingly. Not to be outdone, Logan downed his too, and then tossed his bottle into the corner.

She lined up her finger once again, but before she could once again retrieve a cold one without moving, Logan plucked the last two beers and handed her one. "Thanks," she said, twisting it open.

"You learn t' drink like that at home?" he asked opening his own.

"Nope," she replied, swallowing, "I never drank at home."

"So you haven't been drinking fer long?"

"About four years. Since I was about fifteen."

"What were you doing out on your own that young?"

"My parents were always very understanding about my…" she gestured at the hourglass on her hand and pointed at her eyes, "unfortunately, when they died, the uncle that I was sent to live with was not quite as open-minded." She paused long enough to take another swig. "My oldest cousin told me that his father was planning to send me to a 'home'. Turned out to be a hospital for the criminally insane. Well I wasn't going to play that. So I took off. Been on my own since." She finished and took another long swig of her beer. Logan followed suit and before they knew it, they were out. "I can't believe you only bought a six-pack," she criticized.

"I wasn't expectin' t' share or t' turn this trip into a bender. But I think we need more sustenance."

"I couldn't agree more," she replied leaning in.

He stood and patted the back pocket of his jeans checking for his wallet. Finding it there he picked up the room key and headed for the door.

"You sure you have enough to pay for this?"

"Yeah," he replied, "Got a twenty in my wallet."

"Oh," she replied, reaching into her own pocket, "you mean this twenty."

"Bitch," he said, reaching for the bill.

"Asshole," she replied, smiling and handing it over. He snatched it from her hand and left. _Maybe not such an asshole, after all, _she thought to herself.


	3. Part III

Roaddog 4:69

Roaddog 4:69

If I didn't create them, then I don't own them, please don't sue me. This seems to be getting a little redundant, doesn't it?

He returned a few minutes later with a case, and after better than half of it was gone, the light conversation of sports, drinking stories, and engines took a turn.

"Oh yeah," he said, "like you don't want me."

Araña raised one eyebrow before responding. "I don't."

"Sure," he said rolling his eyes, before another long pull on his beer.

"I'm serious," she answered.

After lowering his bottle, he leveled his eyes at her. "You're serious."

"Yeah."

He sat back in the chair then, still staring at her. "Really?"

"Yeah," she replied, getting a little sick of answering the same question.

"Well why the hell not?"

"What do you mean? You want reasons?"

"Yeah," he answered. "I want reasons."

Flabbergasted, Araña was speechless for a minute. "I don't know," she said, shrugging. "I guess I just don't go in for the whole little fur-ball thing."

"Fur-ball?!?"

"Yeah. I mean don't get me wrong, you're fine and all, but the idea of running my tongue down your body and getting all of that hair in the back of my throat. Bleah!"

"Lots of women find it attractive."

"Lots of women find ear hair attractive, but I'm not lining up to date guys with ear hair," she responded, taking a swig.

"More t' hold onto."

"So are love handles, another quality that I don't search for in a man." He stared down at his beer for a few seconds, silent. "Did I damage your fragile male ego?" she asked teasingly.

"Nope" he replied looking up. "I think I have this figured out."

"Good," she nodded emphatically before taking another swallow of her beer.

"So you play for your own team, right?"

She raised one eyebrow at him. "Excuse me?"

"You bat from the other side of th' plate, right?"

"Will you kill the baseball analogies? Are you asking me if I'm a lesbian?"

"Well, ain't you?"

"Let me get this straight. Just because I'm not fawning all over your every move or pissing my pants while simultaneously trying to get into yours then I must be gay?" He nodded calmly at her, as if he didn't understand why she was getting so uptight. "Is it all women you have a low opinion of or is it just me?" He opened his mouth to reply, but she raised a hand to silence him. "Never mind." She brought the bottle to her lips one last time, downing the remains of the sudsy brew. Then she looked at the clock. "Damn," she said, "look at the time. My train leaves in a couple of hours. We should get some sleep."

"Yeah," he agreed, "that twit at th' counter never sent th' cot did she?"

"No," she replied attempting to stand. "Probably got tied up with the Shriners."

"Damned Shriners," he growled. "Well you can have th' bed."

"You sure," she asked as she pulled back the covers.

"Yeah. Probably won't sleep much anyway."

"Bad dreams," she asked crawling under the covers.

"How'd you know?"

"You look like the type. 'Night, Logan."

"'Night, Araña." Within a few moments she was asleep and snoring softly, as Logan looked out the window, taking in the beauty of the night.

A few hours later, her soft snoring was interrupted by bouts of coughing. He had just lit up his first stogie in eight hours and though he felt bad for waking her he needed his fix. "Geaa," she groaned, "You do realize that this is a non-smoking room?"

"M-hmm," came his response.

"Damn, that thing stinks," she said, sitting up in bed trying to focus on him at the window. "Second hand smoke is carcinogenic, you know? I'm basically smoking half of that."

"Good," he replied, "then you can give half th' money for my next pack."

"Hardy-fucking-Har. What time is it?"

"Six," he replied never turning.

"And my train leaves at?"

"Eight-thirty."

"Good. Just enough time to get dressed and get some breakfast. My treat."

"Great. A steak sounds perfect."

"Do you ever eat a meal without consuming some member of the bovine family?"

"Nope."

"You're real talkative in the morning."

"M-hmm," he replied. Behind him, he could hear her get out of bed; he turned in time to see her stretch and to catch a glimpse of red underwear. He turned back around. He heard the bathroom door close, as the water began to run. She emerged a few minutes later, just in time for Logan to take the last drag on his stogie.

"Ready?" she asked.

"As ever." He grabbed his jacket and Stetson and she her sunglasses, and they headed out the door. 

"So, where to?" she asked once in the parking lot.

"I think I saw a…" Logan trailed off as he sniffed at the air.

"What?" 

A crisp * snikt * was his reply as his claws sprung from his knuckles. "Back up, darlin'."

"What is it?" She asked looking around frantically.

Logan knew what it was, he just didn't know how. Sure enough out of the corner of his eye he watched as a mass of hair, talons and black eyes exploded from hiding. Sabretooth.

Logan reached back and pushed Araña to the ground as he prepared to square off against Sabretooth. Neither of them very big on talking, they got right to action. A low sweep by Logan's right hand scathed Sabretooth's leg. Sabretooth responded by swinging one massive hand and connecting with Logan's face. The power behind the blow forced Logan down onto one knee. When he looked up, three small lines drawn in blood streaked down Logan's face. 

Growling, Logan narrowed his eyes as he glared up at Sabretooth. Araña watched in amazement as the wounds closed up in front of her eyes. Logan had had enough of this however. Upper lip pulled back and snarling, Logan stood as he brought his left hand up the length on Sabretooth's torso. Araña could see the blood seep through the material he wore almost instantaneously. Sabretooth roared in pain. Calling on all the strength he had left, the wounded Sabretooth reached for Logan's throat. Latching on, he raised the much shorter Logan off the ground. 

Finally, Araña stood and ripped off the T-shirt she had been wearing. Logan, noticing the motion to the side of him, stared awestruck at the extra appendages that sprouted from her ribs. The kid had spider legs. Four of them. Two on each side of her ribcage about eight inches long, jointed and covered with short, spiky, black hair. He watched as she closed her eyes and the legs wrapped around her stomach, just to the point of touching. They began to move in what appeared to be a weaving motion. Once they were in a frenzy, Araña thrust her right hand into the fray. The hourglass on her wrist pulsed as the silk that she had used the night before became entangled in the extra legs, making what appeared to be a giant web. A web big enough for a man to fit in. _Good girl, _Logan thought to himself. She slowly opened her eyes and focused on Logan and Sabretooth. She smiled.

At that moment, Sabretooth tossed Logan about four feet onto the hood of a car. The fuzzy darkness started to pull at the edges of his consciousness. Barely coherent he thought, _that doesn't make sense for him to toss me. It would have made more sense to use me as a shield. _That thought had no more finished its trip through his mind when the felt the silk envelope him. He opened his eyes in time to see Sabretooth's fist smash into his eye…then everything went black.

"I think he's coming to." Logan responded by flicking out claws from his knuckles. "Yup," Araña continued calmly. "He's awake." Logan attempted to pull his arms up, only to find that he was cuffed to a metal chair. 

A very plain chair save the little extras. At the feet of the chair were small cuffs holding his ankles. His arms were held fast by cuffs soldered directly to the arm rests. He raised his eyes to meet the sunglasses of Araña, who squatted in front of him, completely unrestrained. "Good to see you back among the living, Logan. I though Sabes had put you out permanently.Must say that I'm glad he didn't, although you don't look very pleased to see me."

He glared a hole through her. He couldn't believe that he hadn't seen this one coming. Guessed cause she was a kid, who would have expected it? He was still pissed. He wrenched one wrist down in an attempt to slice through the arm of the chair. He heard a cling but felt no give in the metal. Again he tried to slice through the arm, and was met again by the same resistance. She stared coldly at him from behind the sunglasses. "Having a little trouble there?" she asked calmly. He looked up at her again, to see her smiling. "Let me ask you something, Logan? Ever have the occasion to slam one of your claws into another? My guess is no, or else you wouldn't have that puzzled look on your face now. 

"Adamantium. Remarkable metal. I mean if you took one of your claws now and crashed it into another neither would even sustain a scratch. Feel free to test it if you want…oh," she said half-laughing while drumming her fingers on the cuffs that held him, "whoops you can't. Oh well, take my word for it. Anyway, when I figured I was gonna have to snatch you I took it upon myself to have a chair constructed that could withstand your…unique extremities. You wouldn't believe the shit I had to go through to get this made. But I'm sure you appreciate the craftsmanship."

"I will get outta this," Logan replied, snarling, and retracting his claws "an' I will kill you when I do."

For the first time Logan noticed that they were not alone in this abandoned warehouse, as Sabretooth stormed towards him. Araña raised a hand over her shoulder, which halted him in his tracks. "I'm sensing some hostility, here, Logan. There's really no need for animosity. I'm only trying to provide for the welfare of every mutant. A war is coming. And if we don't do something to preserve ourselves we'll get wiped out. Of that I have no doubt. Now the only question is what to do?

"Well let me start by saying that Magneto was right; Rogue is the key. Only Magneto was sloppy. I've found that to be a recurring flaw in you XY boys. Impulsiveness. Being impetuous isn't a bad thing in a boxing ring, but when you're talking about world domination, you can't afford to think with anything other than your head. Your big head, to clarify. I tried to tell Magneto this but he wouldn't listen. Big surprise although probably not as big a surprise as it was when he got arrested. So now with 'Metal Head' behind bars or plastic curtains, anyway, someone had to step up and take control."

"So you're planning what? A world take over an' then free Magneto so he can run it?" 

"What are you insane?" Araña asked, laughing. "That son of a bitch had his chance. If he gets out of prison it's gonna be on his own and he's gonna have to kill me to gain control."

"No loyalty among thieves, huh?"

"Loyalty for what exactly?" she asked, standing. "Do you honestly think that if he had succeeded at the world summit that he would have kept any of us around a minute longer than he had to? He was out for himself, he always has been, and he always will be. We were just low-rent mercenaries he hired along the way cause he was getting too old to do his own dirty work. Besides he always treated Sabes like an idiot anyway. I can honestly say that the world of mutants would be much better off without him."

"So you're just gonna kill a few hundred thousand people, so you can live peacefully. Sounds like you're out fer yourself."

Heaving a deep breath she grabbed a chair and straddled it in front of him, before pulling off her sunglasses. Red eyes exposed, she responded, "You're missing the big picture, Logan. Imagine, a world with the ruling class comprised of mutants. Laws being passed by mutants. No need to hide in dark alleyways or schools for the gifted. No more hiding who you are and what you are capable of. No more being a freak. You've been out in the world, Logan. You've got to appreciate what that could mean. I'm just asking you to have the slightest bit of vision. Join us, Logan. Help us fight for the liberation of mutants."

"So what's your plan?" he asked, feigning interest to keep her talking long enough to figure out how to escape.

"Well, I know this guy in East Mississippi. A telepath. One of the most powerful in the world. His specialty? Mass genocide or suicide. Ruby Ridge and Waco. Those were his. So was Jonestown. Not to mention about a hundred other small, non-newsworthy cult suicides that you've probably never heard of. Anyway, I figured we needed to kill the leader of these anti-mutant groups, but we can't have any blame cast on the mutant community. So if we could get the leaders to commit suicide there would be no one to keep people stirred up, and most of the anti-mutant sentiment would die and we could easily slip into power."

"You've lost your flamin' mind."

"I'm not crazy, Logan. I'm just ambitious."

"What d'ya need Rogue fer then?"

"Well, unfortunately my telepath's powers have diminished with his age. Rogue is young and there is a fairly slim chance that she'll survive."

"Fairly slim?"

"Oh come on, Logan how can you even sit there and pretend like it's not worth it. The life of one girl versus the continuance of the entire race of mutants. Not just in the US," smiling she added, "and Canada, but all over the world."

"What if it was you?"

"If I had Rogue's power I'd be more than happy to sacrifice myself for the world. Unfortunately, there is no need to cover the entire world in a huge spider web."

"How convenient."

"I sense you drifting away from cooperation, Logan. Come on, there are two ways to do this. The easy way or the hard way. Don't make us do it the hard way. Please."

From the look on her face, she did look genuinely concerned. "Gonna have t' go hard way, Araña."

She nodded slowly before replacing her sunglasses, "I more or less figured. Sabes," she called over her shoulder, as she stood. "Looks like we're gonna need the helmet after all."

"Told 'ya," Sabretooth stated flatly. 

"I know, baby, but I figured it was worth a shot anyway. He would have been a hell of an addition." Sabretooth grunted in response, "Not that anyone could replace you," she said running her hand up his barrel chest into the thick hair surrounding his face.

Reaching down, he put his hands around her waist and lifted, bringing her face level with his. She wrapped both arms around his neck and they kissed. Long and hard. Pressing her against him to balance her weight he freed one hand to openly grope at whatever he could find. She wrapped one leg around his waist, and Logan could hear him growling in arousal even from four feet away. Logan looked away, until he heard her feet hit the cement floor again.

When he looked up, Araña was smiling and Sabretooth was the closest to it that Logan had ever seen him. He walked out of the room slowly, as Araña straightened her shirt, and made her way back to the chair sitting in front of Logan. Responding to the look she was receiving from Logan, "I like a man with a little broader chest, nothing personal," she finished as she straddled the back of the chair again.

"Thought you didn't like th' hairy thing."

"If you'll recall my exact wording, I said that I didn't go in for the 'little' fur ball thing. And speaking purely size wise, Logan," she snickered and smiled, before continuing. "Not that I've seen every part of your anatomy that warrants comparison, but I'm betting he's got you beat there too." Logan stared at her in silence for a few seconds. "Did I damage your ego again?" Again, silence. "Well, if it will make you feel any better, know that there was not a minute on this mission that I didn't consider, ripping off all of our clothes, and getting it on with you. I almost gave up world domination for you, Logan. That should count for something."

"Humph," he huffed in response. "So, this helmet that fuzzy has gone t' fetch, it ain't gonna blow my head up or anything."

"Oh no," she replied. "It's just kind of a compact form of brainwashing. Also makes you very susceptible to telepathic commands. We've already had a successful subject."

"Who?"

"Well, Jean if you must know. See we figured that if we could brainwash her then once she got back to the school, we could call her when we were ready. She could bring Rogue here without raising too much suspicion, then we could use Rogue to brainwash the world leaders. Unfortunately, trying to get Jean to respond to the psychic prompting once back at the school proved to be harder than we had anticipated. I personally think it's because she's such a ditz, but maybe I'm wrong. Anyway, eventually we got her to respond but every time that she tried to leave the school with Rogue, Scott had to tag along. Doesn't that man have a life?" Logan chuckled despite himself. "Anyway, we figured we had to find someone else. Someone that Rogue would unquestioningly go with, and someone who could leave the School without a tagalong. Naturally you were our first choice.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go and change into something that doesn't smell like it could blind small children." With that she turned and left, leaving Logan sitting in the middle of the warehouse, alone. 

Figuring this was his best shot, Logan once again produced the claws on his left hand. Pointing his fingers as far down as they would go, the tips of one claw found the soldered joint where the cuff met the arm of the chair. Forcing the claw into it, he noticed that there was some give there. Slowly the claw slipped further and further into the soft spot until the cuff separated from the arm of the chair and his left hand was free. He reached down and split the cuffs around his ankles in the same way. The cuff on the right side however wasn't cooperating. No matter how he sliced at it, the cuff wouldn't give. Thinking quickly, he reached over and separated the entire armrest from the rest of the chair. 

Hearing Araña returning, he retracted his claws and returned his arms and legs back into their previous positions, hoping that she wouldn't notice that the cuffs were missing. She sauntered up to him, swaying her hips to and fro. He dropped his eyes. " I really wish we could do this another way, Logan. I hate to take away your free will."

"I hate t' lose it." 

"Do me a favor before Sabes gets back and we get on with this," she said, trailing her fingers up his arm and over his shoulders to his hair, as she walked around behind him.

"Don't know much I can do, tied down t' this chair an' all."

She leaned over the top of the chair, and brushed his ear with her lips as she whispered to him, "I can do it all. Just let me kiss you." He didn't say anything, and she took his silence as compliance. She made her way around to the front of the chair and put one knee on either side of his thighs, resting her hands on the armrests. He prayed that she wouldn't notice that one was no longer connected to the chair. Her breasts pressed against his face until she settled onto his lap, her face inches from his. Red lips inched their way towards his. She brushed them softly at first, then firmer, more insistent. Her tongue probed his bottom lip as she tried to gain entry. He parted his lips slightly, and she took full advantage, grabbing either side of his face she inhaled deeply, as her tongue explored his mouth. 

The * snikt * that she heard didn't even register until it was too late. Not until Logan had run his claws into the soft flesh of her abdomen. She coughed blood into his mouth before she managed to pull back. She was shocked, that was obvious by the expression on her face. Her body tensed as her spirit began to leave and her nails drug down the side of his face left shallow trails down his cheeks. They healed over almost as soon as she made them. 

As he stood she fell backwards off his lap, her head hitting the concrete with a thud. Her blood immediately began to pool around her corpse, soaking into her clothes and marring Logan's boots. He slowly stepped back. Looking down at her he felt a twinge of guilt. She was just a kid, only a year or so older than Rogue. His guilt was interrupted however by a metallic clunk from the door as Sabretooth, who had just stepped in, dropped the helmet he had been sent to retrieve. He stood at the door, stunned.

At this moment, he wasn't Sabretooth, mercenary/killer; he was Victor Creed, a man whose woman had just been killed. He stared at her dead body lying on the floor in a pool of blood for so long that Logan thought maybe he had forgotten that he was there, but Sabretooth remembered soon enough. Looking up from the body, he stared Logan down, rage burning in his features. 

He stomped toward Logan, never pausing, not even when he lowered his hand in order to get enough power into it to send Logan flying. Logan crash-landed about eight feet away, with Sabretooth bearing down on him. Logan managed to get to his feet before Sabretooth reached him again, and he got in one good swipe with his left hand, slicing a gash into Sabretooth's right arm, however the rampaging beast barely noticed. Once again he smacked Logan in the side of the face, sending him toppling. As Logan hit the ground this time, he heard the metal clink as the armrest still attached to his wrist hit the ground.Behind him he could hear Sabretooth getting closer.Sabretooth paused directly behind Logan and brought down a double-handed blow into the small of his back. Logan arched his back in pain, but before he could react, Sabretooth was on his left hand side kicking him in the ribs.

Before Sabretooth could land another kick, Logan rolled over onto his back, putting the Adamantium armrest between his ribs and Sabretooth's boot. When his toe connected with the metal, Sabretooth howled in pain, giving Logan time to get the advantage. He jumped to his feet and started swinging his left hand claws and right hand with armrest. A right with the armrest to Sabretooth's head, a left with a slash to his chest. A right to the already open cut on his arm and a left slice to the face. Smaller and faster, Logan spun around to Sabretooth's back, kidney shot with the armrest and a gash down the length of his back. 

Cocky, from his landed blows, Logan didn't see the big hand coming, until it was in front of his nose. Blam! And down Logan went. Suddenly Logan found himself at his adversary's feet. _Achilles' heel_ suddenly popped into Logan's head, as he slashed across the back of Sabretooth's heel. Through the boot leather, through the skin, straight to the Achilles' tendon. No longer able to support his massive weight, Sabretooth's foot buckled and sent him to the floor. The pain from his foot had shocked Sabretooth frozen. Logan was on his feet in a second. His vision was still a little fuzzy from Sabretooth's punch, but he could see well enough to find the chest of the bigger man. With surgical precision he jammed his claws home, directly into the life-giving organ…the heart. Sabretooth howled in pain as he felt his life-force slipping away, and for a few brief seconds, Sabretooth's pulse vibrated through Logan's claws causing his hand to shake, until the heart stopped beating. Sabretooth was dead.

Logan stood, slowly, breaths coming harsh and ragged, and stared down at his victim. Slowly he turned away. He walked unsteadily to where Araña lie. He stared down at the young face encircled in red; he retracted his claws, and wiped the blood from his hands on his jeans. Then he turned his back on her and started towards the door.

Stepping outside the warehouse, he inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of everything. He looked around. He didn't recognize his surroundings, but he couldn't be far from the hotel where he had spent the previous night, it smelled too familiar to be too far away. Realizing that he might draw some attention, walking back with an armrest attached to him, he made his way to the closest gas station. "Hey," he yelled as he approached, "A little help?"

"Beat it, Freak!" the old man yelled, as he went back inside.

Sighing, Logan began to think to himself…maybe Araña had a point after all.


End file.
